ng you--it's simply
passing a good thing along. I learned it off of a Yaqui Mayo Indian
that had been riding for Bill Greene on the Turkey-track--I rubbed it
with a little salt."

"Well, I'm a son of a gun!" exclaimed Creede incredulously. "Here
we've been gittin' our fingers bit off for forty years and never
thought of a little thing like that. Got any more tricks?"

"Nope," said Hardy, "I've only been in the Territory a little over a
year, this trip, and I'm learning, myself. Funny how much you can pick
up from some of these Indians and Mexicans that can't write their own
names, isn't it?"

"Umm, may be so," assented Creede doubtfully, "but I'd rather go to a
white man myself. Say," he exclaimed, changing the subject abruptly,
"what was that name the old man called you by when he was makin' that
talk about sheep--Roofer, or Rough House--or something like that?"

"Oh, that's my front name--Rufus. Why? What's the matter with it?"

"Nothin', I reckon," replied Creede absently, "never happened to hear
it before, 's all. I was wonderin' how he knowed it," he added,
glancing shrewdly sideways. "Thought maybe you might have met him up
in California, or somewheres."

"Oh, that's easy," responded Hardy unblinkingly. "The first thing he
did was to ask me my full name. I notice he calls you Jefferson," he
added, shiftily changing the subject.

"Sure thing," agreed Creede, now quite satisfied, "he calls everybody
that way. If your name is Jim you're James, John you're Jonathan, Jeff
you're Jefferson Davis--but say, ain't they any f'r short to your
name? We're gittin' too far out of town for this Mister business. My
name's Jeff, you know," he suggested.

"Why, sure," exclaimed Hardy, brushing aside any college-bred
scruples, "only don't call me Rough House--they might get the idea
that I was on the fight. But you don't need to get scared of
Rufus--it's just another way of saying Red. I had a red-headed
ancestor away back there somewhere and they called him Rufus, and then
they passed the name down in the family until it got to me, and I'm no
more red-headed than you are."

"_No_--is that straight?" ejaculated the cowboy, with enthusiasm,
"same as we call 'em Reddy now, eh? But say, I'd choke if I tried to
call you Rufus. Will you stand for Reddy? Aw, that's no good--what's
the matter with Rufe? Well, shake then, pardner, I'm dam' glad I met
up with you."

They pulled their horses down to a Spanish trot--that easy, lim